


Perfect

by thesadchicken



Category: Frasier (TV)
Genre: Cunnilingus, Dom!Daphne, Established Relationship, F/M, Face Slapping, Height Differences, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, sub!Niles, these two are PERFECT for each other I love them so much okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 13:47:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29333289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesadchicken/pseuds/thesadchicken
Summary: Niles looks up just in time to see Daphne enter the room. She's perfect, from her beautiful ankles all the way up to her precious nose. She kisses him, and he notices the hunger in her eyes.It sets his blood on fire.
Relationships: Niles Crane/Daphne Moon
Comments: 5
Kudos: 15





	Perfect

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kingofthelosers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kingofthelosers/gifts).



> _**Daphne:** I told you: I'm gonna need time to adjust to sleeping with someone. Until then you're just going to have to fight me off.  
>  **Niles:** Oh, I tried, you hurled me to the floor!  
>  **Daphne:** You've never minded the rough stuff before._  
> —season 8, episode 22; A Passing Fancy

The sound of her high-heeled shoes on the wooden floor echoes along the hallway. Niles looks up just in time to see her enter the room.

“Daphne,” he staggers to his feet, “you look—”

 _Perfect_ is the word that best suits her, but he’d rather be cautious right now: that particular point is still a little raw, the image of the woman in a backless red dress still looming over them, threatening to frighten Daphne away again. The so-called illusion; the seamless, faultless version of her.

Of course, Niles knows it’s no illusion; she _is_ perfect, she simply is, from her beautiful ankles all the way up to her precious nose. He wishes she could see it too, he wishes she would believe him when he says it, but he understands it’ll take time.

So for now he holds his tongue, keeping that word to himself, resolved not to speak it until she is ready. Instead he flounders, mouth open, eyes wide with unconcealed awe. She smiles, taking his speechlessness for the compliment that it is, and reaches out to place her palm on his chest.

“You’re quite the looker yourself,” she says, smoothing out the front of his blazer—the blue one, the one she says no one can resist him in—and that’s when he notices the hunger in her eyes.

It sets his blood on fire. Leaning in, he gently squeezes her waist, her mulberry blouse smooth and silky against his skin. A silent understanding passes between them; they’re going to be late and lose their reservations, but they really couldn’t care less because the apartment is empty and they’re not hungry. Not for food anyway.

She grabs him by the lapels of his blazer and pulls him into a kiss. He returns it greedily, all tongue and heat, noticing how tall she is in these shoes, how he needs to tilt his head up ever so slightly to reach her. He moans, the thought making him go weak at the knees, and he feels her smile into the kiss. She knows what this does to him. He once told Frasier that he was self-conscious about their height difference and so had asked Daphne to stop wearing high-heeled shoes, but the truth is he just can’t trust his knees not to buckle when she towers over him like this in public.

Above him, where she belongs.

They hold the kiss for a long, breathless moment before coming up for air. Niles watches as Daphne’s eyes flutter open. One look, that’s all it takes, and he’s already desperate to kneel before her. But he wants her to say the words, wants to hear the order and obey it. She kisses him again, one last time, then whispers against his lips, “On your knees.”

A shiver runs down his spine as he complies, eyes never leaving hers, sinking down until he’s kneeling, and god his heart is racing and his hands are shaking and he’s so hard already. Daphne grasps his chin, thumb drawing slow circles on his cheek, the calm before the storm. He looks up at her, docile, pliant under her touch.

Her hand lingers on his face, asking permission.

“If you need me to stop—”

“Orpheus,” he says.

Daphne nods. “Orpheus.”

For a moment she watches him, tenderness written over her delicate features, then something shifts in her gaze. She recognizes his urgent need for submission; perhaps she feels it in the way he lifts his chin, inviting her punishment. Tonight he wants to be taken, he wants to give in. He needs to be hers, entirely.

“Blazer off,” she commands.

He quickly obeys, a little winded, dizzy with desire. She touches his neck, trails her fingers along his shoulder, slips them under the strap of his suspenders. “Mm,” she smiles. “Irresistible.”

Niles blushes at the praise.

She grabs his tie, using it to pull him towards her as she takes a step back and sits down on the couch. The slow, almost imperceptible sliding movement on his knees—paired with the pressure on his neck—makes his skin prickle with goosebumps. He knows she’s paying attention to his reactions, noting his sharp intake of breath, the rise and fall of his chest. She’ll use it against him later, and he’ll enjoy every second of it.

But now she leans back on her elbows, pulling her pleated black skirt over her thighs. Her legs slide further apart and she pushes her hips up to remove her lace panties, kicking them aside with her high-heeled foot.

“Hands behind your back,” she orders, and he does as he’s told, eager to please. Daphne bites her lower lip. “Now put that lovely mouth to good use.”

He lowers his head, tongue darting out, but then his eyes meet hers and he catches the soft fire there. She is so beautiful, short hair grazing her jaw, full lips curling into a lazy, playful smile. He stares, entranced, unwilling to look away. And he hovers like that for a few seconds, only brushing against her, barely a touch.

She gives him a light slap on the cheek. “No teasing, love.” Her voice is low and rough with lust, but it carries a hint of amusement, so he smiles, cheek moving against her palm.

And then he puts his mouth on her, and a sigh of pleasure escapes her. He doesn’t move, not yet, just closes his lips around her clit and hums in appreciation. She’s warm and wet and _perfect_ , and he’s aching for more. She slips her fingers into his hair and gives a sharp tug. He doesn’t make her wait.

Opening his mouth, he slides his tongue against her. Up, down, up again. Her eyelids flutter closed, and he fights the urge to do the same. He wants to watch, wants to see the way she arches her back. His mouth moves against her, lapping and sucking and she holds on to the couch, her other hand on the back of his head, keeping him in place.

He traces her opening with the tip of his tongue before diving in, and she gasps, throwing her head back in pleasure. He moans in response, the sound muffled against her skin. She rolls her hips, rubs herself all over his face. He’s lightheaded and his jaw hurts, but he doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow down until she’s trembling, crying out, “Yes, yes, _Niles!_ ”

She rides his face through her orgasm, shaking with the force of it. It leaves them both breathless. He keeps his mouth on her until she gently pushes him away.

“You’re such a good boy, Niles,” she sighs, mellow with pleasure. “So good for me. It’s your turn now; tell me what you want.”

He knows instantly what he’s going to ask for— _beg for_ , if she wants him to.

“Slap me.”

She’s surprised, he can tell. She’s been rough with him before, and he always lets her know just how much he enjoys it, but he’s never dared ask for something like this. For anything, really. He isn’t used to making any kind of demand in the bedroom. In his past relationships, sex was never spontaneous; it was something to be earned, something he could only hope for in the small hours of the night, when his constant loneliness would threaten to swallow him up.

No, before Daphne, sex was never a thing for two. He was made to feel lucky—and slightly guilty—if he ever got to experience it. Sex was something his partner would do to him, quickly and silently, and he never dared asked for more than what he was given.

It’s different now. Daphne comes to him in her high-heels and pleated skirts, with a look of hunger on her beautiful face, and she calls him a good boy and asks him what he wants. She enjoys herself and makes sure he enjoys it too. She makes it last, stretching every moment until neither of them can take it anymore, until they fall into each other’s arms and lose themselves to the fire.

It’s why he wants her to claim him. It’s why he wants her to slap him.

For a second, he thinks he might have gone too far, might have asked for too much, maybe he shouldn’t have said anything, maybe—

She slaps him across the face, sending his head jerking to the other side. The sound of it, the burning and tingling and throbbing all goes straight to his cock. He moans, willingly offering the other cheek, and she slaps him again, hard enough to leave an angry red welt that he’ll stare at lovingly in the mirror later.

He could sob at the feeling, how it sets every fiber of his being alight. He wants more.

“Again, please. Harder.”

She slaps him so hard he loses his balance.

Daphne’s physical strength is furtive, hidden beneath her slender shoulders and thin neck. Underneath she is all power, body and soul, and sometimes she seems to forget it. She often pushes him out of chairs and into walls without meaning to. Her playful swats leave bruises on his arm. But now…

Now she knows exactly what she’s doing. Her palm striking his cheek feels like heaven. The most exquisite pain, the sweetest submission; to be hers, only hers, entirely hers.

“Get up,” she says.

He does as he’s told, wobbling to his feet. His cheeks sting; his trousers feel painfully tight. She notices, of course, and her next order is merciful.

“Strip.”

She watches him undress, watches his clothes fall soundlessly to the floor. Her eyes travel his body, then—

“Touch yourself for me.”

Somehow the demand isn’t what Niles expects. He swallows heavily, the surprise of it mortifying. He’s never been asked to display himself like this, and he’s not quite sure what to do. “I,” he begins, “I beg your pardon?”

“You heard me,” Daphne lifts her chin, uncompromising.

He draws a breath. His hand drifts to his cock, hesitant, a little shy, and he closes his eyes.

“Niles,” she says, her voice suddenly soft, almost unbearably gentle. “Look at me.”

And he does, of course he does, he would do anything for her. She watches him, looking into his eyes, lips parted, as he touches himself for her. Then she leans in, places a tender hand on his thigh.

“Lie down,” she whispers, moving to make place on the couch.

He lies on his back and she climbs on top of him, straddles him, covers him with her body. He holds onto her hips like a lifeline. She reaches between them and he feels her lining him up, feels the opening to her warmth. She won’t wait any longer. He’s grateful for the eagerness he reads in her eyes—he needs her _now_.

There are a few seconds of stillness, and the room is filled with their heavy breathing. In this quiet intimacy he belongs to her, and she to him, and nothing else matters.

She lowers herself onto him. His hands tremble on her hips. She sets a pace, but the steady rhythm of her desire quickly dissolves into feverish need. Her head is thrown back in pleasure, her breasts bouncing with each powerful shove. She rides him with reckless abandon, and there’s a wildness to her that overwhelms him. He squeezes the soft flesh of her thighs in warning, _I’m so close, Daphne!_ and she nods, _yes, yes, yes!_. Her sighs turn into throaty moans as she moves on top of him, and he loves the sounds she’s making, he loves her more than anything, it’s too much, too close, he’s barely holding back, shaking with the effort—

The moment he feels her tighten and shudder around him, he lets go. It hits him all at once, and he whimpers her name, jolting with the force of it. She comes too, long and hard, fingernails digging into his skin, then collapses on top of him, pressing her mouth to his neck as they both try to catch their breaths.

He knows they have to get up and take care of the mess they made of themselves—but right this moment, Niles takes Daphne’s hand in his and places a kiss in the center of her palm. “I love you.”

And he sees it so clearly now; how they’re healing together, how they’re lifting each other up. All the sorrows from his past disappear when he's in her arms.

She smiles, utterly perfect. “I love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Jules, this is all your fault. I love sub!Niles and I love you ♡♡♡  
> (Go read [kingofthelosers' Frasier stories,](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kingofthelosers/pseuds/kingofthelosers/works?fandom_id=1174767) you'll thank me later)
> 
> Thanks [tocautiouslygo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tocautiouslygo) for the quick brit-pick ♡


End file.
